The Bad Guy Read Online Celia Aaron

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Dark, Erotic, Funny, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 101399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
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Link groaned again as Sebastian slammed the door and flipped the deadbolt.

He returned to the couch and sat next to me. Laying back, he pulled me on top of him. “Are you okay?”

Link’s violence would leave a mark on me. I knew that. I could feel that slice of evil coloring a part of my soul, and it would be with me long after today. But it wouldn’t rule me.

I snuggled against Sebastian’s chest as he ran his hands up and down my back. “I think I’m going to be fine. We’re going to be fine.”

“We?” A hopeful note in his voice made me smile.

“Yes, we. After all, we’re a team. We took out the bad guy.”

“Hmph.” He smoothed a hand down my hair. “I thought I was the bad guy in your story?”

“I was wrong.” I propped my chin on his chest and stared into his eyes. “You aren’t the bad guy after all. Psycho? Yes. But you’re the hero of my story.”

“I’ve never been someone’s hero before.”

“You’re mine.”

“So I’m the good guy?”

I stretched up and kissed his chin. “Let’s not get carried away.”

He laughed, the sound rich and delicious.

“Sebastian?”

“Yes, my damsel?” His warmth infused my heart.

“I love you.”

“I know.”

“Oh, really?” I cocked my head.

“Your expression. The one I could never figure out. I’ve collected enough data to decide that it’s love.”

“You can’t robot your way into my emotions like that.”

“But I did.” He pulled me up his body and placed gentle kisses on my lips. “It was the one missing element. The part I couldn’t figure out no matter how hard I tried. Not until I realized how much I loved you. And then it all clicked, like the missing piece of the puzzle.” He smirked. “I didn’t even have to force it, though I certainly tried.”

“You did.” I cupped his face in my hands. “Psycho stalker.”

“You loved it.”

“No.” I kissed him, slow and sweet. “Just you.”

Epilogue

Camille

Green in New York always seemed like, at most, four shades. They were beautiful shades, each one heralding spring or pronouncing the glory of summer. I thought I knew green. I didn’t.

The rainforest canopy expanded as far as I could see, a variety of leaves, arboreal plants, parasitic flowers, and any number of random bits of vegetation. Green—it was no longer a color. It was life. A never-ending river of shades that tinted every part of my world.

I reached forward, working my small shovel around the roots of a bromeliad that had grown in the crook of a tree about a hundred feet above the forest floor. The leaves wavered as I scooped and dug. After a careful excavation, I gave a gentle tug at the plant’s base and pulled it free, bits of dirt cascading to the forest floor below. I stowed it in my expedition bag, then kicked back from the tree and let out my rope to lower myself to the ground. I eased downward, spinning slightly until my feet hit the leaf litter. I unhooked my carabiner and struck off toward the small camp we’d set up nearby.

“Have you seen this frog?” Sebastian’s voice startled me, and I stopped and peered through the fronds and leaves until I caught movement. He stood just off the path, his eyes trained on something in the greenery in front of him.

“Let’s see.” I walked up beside him and followed his gaze. “Yep.” A bright blue frog with swipes of black sat on a wide leaf, its wonky eyes watching us from two different angles.

He reached out toward it. “I almost caught it a minute ago. I was going to bring it to you.”

I slapped his hand. “No.”

“You know I love it when you get frisky.” He pulled me close. My favorite shade of green stared down at me.

“I don’t love it when you get dead.” I glanced to the leaf. “That particular frog is in the Dendrobatidae family.”

He kissed my throat and ran his hand into the waistband of my shorts, cupping my ass. “Keep talking that science stuff to me.”

I sighed. “It’s a poison dart frog. One touch would make you violently ill, and depending on what the frog has been eating lately—usually toxic insects—could potentially kill you.”

“You’d save me.” He kissed to my mouth. “Again.”

I laughed against his lips. “If I recall correctly, you’re the one who saved me.”

“You recall wrong.” He glanced around. “Let’s take this conversation to our tent.” He bent down and slung me over his shoulder.

“Hey!” I clutched my bag. “Watch my sample.”

“I want to watch other things.” He trudged through the trees, striking straight toward the small set of tents. It was an offshoot of my much larger field school about fifty miles away. Students from Trenton worked there during the summers, studying the rainforest and conducting experiments right alongside me. Then, once school was back in, we returned to New York and continued our research. I’d used the funds Bill had given me in trust, plus a generous investment from Sebastian, to establish the entire science initiative. Later in the summer, we’d accept students from other high schools, and were well on our way to becoming a prestigious international teaching institution.


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